


In case of snow

by TheUnicornOnSet



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Homelessness, One Shot, Short One Shot, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 12:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12727020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnicornOnSet/pseuds/TheUnicornOnSet
Summary: What if Jughead hadn't found a new place to sleep after the drive in got closed?





	In case of snow

People must think I’m nuts; apparently waiting for the street light to turn while it’s out of order. It just sways erratically back and forth. The first wave of a larger storm front had hit the town harder than expected. In a shop behind me, several TVs declare a state of emergency for our district. They say the temperature won’t go above ‘hell freezing over’ until next week, and the population is advised only to leave their homes if necessary.

Perfect time to not have a home.

I watch as a falafel truck slowly makes its way down the street. I should get one myself. It’s small, but a place to sleep and I’d always have food. You just don’t make money if you eat all the stuff by yourself.   
Maybe not the best idea then.

The last two shelters were already full, so I head farther down south, trying to ignore the thawing snow in my collar. It’s barely 4 pm, but it’s already half dark, and the wind cutting my face makes it hard to see anything more than a few feet ahead of me. The list of places to stay got pretty short pretty quick. The guilty looks they shot me at the last church that hadn’t any more free cots, probably weren’t a good sign either.

Freezing to death on the streets before my eighteenth birthday was obviously out of the question; I just didn’t think I already had to grab my last straw after only two weeks.

 

Nobody answered the door. Maybe I got lucky, and he passed out drunk somewhere else and wouldn’t even notice me crashing here. The keys are still in the same empty flower pot, and I only had to step over one bottle on my way into the run-down trailer.

Of course, this just wasn’t my day.

My dad slept on the couch, half laying half sitting, an empty pizza box perched on his lap.  
I kicked his boot, but he just grunted and snored on. He’s probably so out of it; he doesn’t even notice the cold that was just as bad as outside.

Fortunately, he hadn’t sold the little electric radiator I always had in my room. It still stood there, untouched like everything else I couldn’t have crammed into my backpack when I left. Maybe he wanted it to be the same in case I came back, or perhaps he just forgot about it.

The heater started whining when I plugged it in but worked anyway. I rolled it between dad and me, hoping he won’t get up at night to stumble over it and break his neck. Shoving a few cans off the armchair, I settle down and pull my knees up to get somewhat comfortable enough to sleep.

It's going to be a long night. 


End file.
